


Statistical Outlier

by cerie



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Babyfic, Established Relationship, F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-18
Updated: 2011-06-18
Packaged: 2017-10-20 12:36:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/212837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cerie/pseuds/cerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Warning for triggering content relating to infertility, pregnancy and childbirth.  Helen wants to prove to Will he won't lose anything by choosing her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Statistical Outlier

It had started out simply enough. Seven months and three days into their relationship, Helen had pulled Will aside on a rainy afternoon and stated that she wanted to have a baby. No preamble, no carefully chosen words, just that she wanted a baby. Will was taken aback; he’d never really contemplated having children before coming to the Sanctuary and after, well, he barely had enough time to think about his next meal, much less procreating. Helen was busy too, probably twice as busy as she was, and their relationship was mostly conducted between late night brainstorming sessions and in tiny airport bathrooms. Will had become a master at quickies in the stalls.

“Just…have one? I never really…thought about that before,” Will admitted, watching her face carefully. He had to tread lightly; Helen’s face drooped a little and Will knew he’d burst her bubble. She shrugged a little, seemingly casting off her hurt feelings and putting up walls, and gave him a bright little smile. Too bright, the sort of smile you fake at a family function with an annoying aunt and Will had never seen Magnus quite that rattled before.

“Just have one. Shouldn’t take long. I still ovulate, you know.”

She gave him a cheeky grin and dragged him into an empty storage closet, fingers deft against his buttons.

***

Six months later and there was no baby. Given Magnus’s unique physiology, she was wary about going to a fertility specialist and Will was inclined to agree on that front. She tested herself, long hours in the lab, and determined that while she had eggs perhaps she just wasn’t ovulating enough. Will frankly didn’t see how she still had ova; from what he remembered, women had a set number and when they ran out, that was it. Still, the Source blood was weird, and Will had no idea how the ancient vampires had reproduced. Probably something ridiculous.

“I’ll stimulate ovulation with a drug therapy,” she explained, giving him another one of those too bright smiles and Will nodded. It was her thing, having the baby, and he was reserving his judgment until she actually conceived and there was something to deal with. For now, it was just trying, and it was stressful. Very stressful. The way Magnus explained it, she’d just need to pop a pill and get intimate and they would be at IKEA picking out baby furniture in a few weeks.

Few things were ever so simple. It was weeks and weeks of temperature taking, of charting, of drugs that made Magnus have mood swings and crying jags and hot flashes. At one point, her breasts were so painfully tender that any attempt Will made to touch them sent Magnus recoiling in pain. It was hard to be in the mood after that, but Magnus insisted, pumping him with her hand when his head just wasn’t in it anymore and climbing on with Will only half-engaged.

She did conceive once, prompting elation from Magnus and simple relief from Will. If she was pregnant, maybe they could settle back into their regular routine and Magnus wouldn’t be so stressed and snappish. And, now that there was something tangible he could attach that effort and those feelings to, Will was a little excited.

***

She lost the pregnancy at twelve weeks. They’d been careful, pushing Magnus back to a more supervisory role while Kate and Henry and Will handled the field retrievals, but apparently careful wasn’t good enough. Will was exhausted and covered in some kind of goo (secretion, Magnus would correct later) when she told him, eyes red-rimmed from crying and body shaking. He drew her into his arms, goo and all, and let his hands drift through her hair as she cried. They stood that way in the foyer for nearly a half an hour, the Big Guy shooing Henry and Kate away when they’d started to gape. It was a private moment.

Will tugged her down the hall and into the shower, running the water hot and tugging them both inside and pulling the door before he spoke, wanting them to have as much privacy as possible. He’d lost something that meant more than he ever thought it would and he imagined that the hurt he had couldn’t compare to Magnus, who’d really been fighting for this. He busied himself with washing her hair, letting the hot water sluice away the stress and the hurt.

“Why did you need this baby so badly, Helen?”

Her smile was soft and sad and she cupped his cheek before answering, voice thick from crying.

“Because I wanted to prove to myself that you weren’t giving anything up by being with me, Will. I was wrong.”

He let that sit between them, kissing the top of her head and letting the roar of the water and the curl of the steam speak instead.

Personally, however, he thought that they didn’t need a baby to be happy. He’d been happier before they started trying.

***

Will agreed to try again after he and Magnus both had a chance to recover and, frankly, mourn but this time they both agreed to try in vitro instead of hormonal treatments. The first embryo took, the first stroke of luck that they’d had in the whole process, and they’d done well until seven months in and Magnus woke up in the middle of the night, dark blood staining the white sheets she favored. Will had never been more thankful for the advanced facilities of the Sanctuary as he was now, hovering nervously as the Big Guy tugged Magnus into his arms like a small child, carrying her down to the infirmary because he didn’t trust her on her feet.

It was a placental abruption, fairly severe, and both Magnus and the OB/GYN she had on conference call agreed that there was nothing to do but deliver the baby by C-section and pray for the best. Will had been reading up on pregnancy and childbirth once he was reasonably sure the pregnancy would take and he knew this was a common enough complication in women over 40. He wasn’t sure what age Magnus’s body was in comparison to other people, but he couldn’t imagine she was physically in her reproductive prime.

He didn’t breathe when they pulled him out. He. His. Will hadn’t really been sold on the baby until he held him, gently suctioning his nose and throat and rubbing his chest so he’d just breathe. Funny, something Will had up until this point almost resented for how it’d come between him and Magnus and made their fun relationship not so fun, had become the most important thing in the universe.

Maybe he’d regret saying it in a few months, but he’d never been so happy to hear a baby cry. Magnus was half in and out of consciousness, having insisted on the bare minimum of sedation so she could keep her wits about her.

“Gregory. I want to name him Gregory.”

Will half-grinned, the smile getting wider when he watched Magnus try to bat away the Big Guy and eventually acquiesced when he promised she could hold the baby while she fell asleep.

Her eyelids were drooping, dark lashes making a fan against too-pale cheeks and when she managed to rouse enough to open hers, they were dilated and a deep, dark blue.

It didn’t escape him that the baby had the same eyes.

***

Four weeks later and Gregory didn’t have to sleep in the infirmary any longer, the lung problems that had plagued him at birth eased somewhat. They’d always be weak, from what Magnus was telling him, but Will guessed he would take a happy, asthmatic son any day over the alternative. He hadn’t been sold on it, not until he’d seen him for the first time, but now he was dozing lightly against Magnus’s chest, eyes heavy and drooping from a full belly, and Will couldn’t be happier.

“I guess you were right.”

Magnus looked over at him, confusion furrowing her brow. Will laughed and smoothed his thumb over the little wrinkle and got an annoyed look for his troubles.

“I guess I’m just saying I’m glad we did this. In the end. But I would have been okay if we couldn’t, you know?”

Magnus smiled, that infuriating all-knowing smile that made Will want to prove all her theories wrong just to show that he could.

“I know. Quiet, he’s sleeping.”


End file.
